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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27337546">little heart</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlightwalking/pseuds/starlightwalking'>starlightwalking</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Ataquenta Silmarillion [31]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Family, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Innumerable Stars 2020, War of Wrath, not quite canon compliant</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 00:02:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>743</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27337546</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlightwalking/pseuds/starlightwalking</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Voronwë receives some visitors, some dreadful news, and a new responsibility.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Círdan | Nowë &amp; Littleheart | Ilfrin, Círdan | Nowë &amp; Voronwë, Círdan | Nowë/Írimë | Lalwen, Littleheart | Ilfrin &amp; Voronwë</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Ataquenta Silmarillion [31]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2076816</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Innumerable Stars 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>little heart</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/elwinfortuna/gifts">elwinfortuna</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Ahh, I didn't manage to get this finished before author reveals, but here's a belated treat for you anyway! Your Littleheart request + your note in your letter that out-there theories were interesting reminded me of this headcanon of mine...</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Voronwë had never seen his uncle’s face so lined with grief, not even when his sister died. For Círdan to travel all this way, in the midst of war...that alone spake of some dreadful news. But Círdan had brought his son along with him, and young Ilverin looked even more shaken than his father.</p><p>He knew instantly that something was wrong with Lalwen.</p><p>“Bronweg,” Círdan said, calling him by the Sindarin name his mother had always used around her side of the family. “May we come in?”</p><p>“Of course,” Voronwë said, shepherding them inside. He helped them get settled and busies himself making tea, just to stop the trembling in his hands.</p><p>“Thank you.” Círdan held his son close, and though he was only a few years from his first coming-of-age, Ilverin clung back even tighter. Sorrow weighed down Círdan’s every movement, and Voronwë was startled to see <em>stubble</em> poking out of his chin. For an <em>elf</em> to have facial hair...! Voronwë had been close—very close—to Men before, and the feel of Tuor’s beard was something he remembered fondly...but Círdan was not supposed to be this way.</p><p>“Uncle,” Voronwë said softly, handing both him and Ilverin cups of tea. “Why are you here?”</p><p>Ilverin sniffed, and wiped his eyes. Círdan looked past him for a moment, and then spoke, eyes and voice both seeming very far away.</p><p>“Lalwen—is dead,” he said softly.</p><p>Voronwë was glad he had just swallowed his tea, for his mouth fell open in horror. Lalwen, lovely, laughing, ladylike Lalwen—his uncle’s constant companion, and eventually, after long years of quiet courtship, his wife—Lalwen was dead. It seemed impossible. She had survived, the Ice, the Bragollach, the Nírnaeth, the Kinslaying—</p><p>“How?” he asked.</p><p>“She could not save Fingolfin.” Círdan closed his eyes. “Her elder brother died alone. Now that Finarfin...Arafinwë, I mean...now that he is here, fighting, she swore to protect her younger brother. And she did. With her last breath.”</p><p>“She will fly speedily to Mandos,” Voronwë murmured, but it was a hollow comfort when Lalwen was gone, and would not walk these shores again.</p><p>“Amil did the right thing,” Ilverin whispered. “I’m proud of her. I just wish...”</p><p>Círdan kissed his forehead, and Ilverin looked so very young again. He <em>was</em> young—too young for this war he had been born into. But Círdan was a Sinda, and that people had never known peace as had the ancient Noldor, of which Lalwen was one. As Voronwë’s father had. Círdan and his sister, Voronwë’s own mother—if they and their kin waited for peace to have children, there would be no Sindar left.</p><p>“I know, little heart, I know,” Voronwë murmured, coming to wrap an arm around his young cousin. That was his nickname for Ilverin, so small and precious and kind. Too good for this harsh existence. “I miss my Naneth and Atar, too.” They both had passed before the Valar came. Nothing could’ve saved them; even the Valar had not saved Lalwen.</p><p>“I am still a leader,” Círdan said bleakly. “I—perhaps we should have done this earlier, we were <em>both</em> leaders in this war, but...”</p><p>“Ada can’t take care of me anymore,” Ilverin finished for him. “And he says I’m too young to fight...” He bowed his head. “And...I know I <em>should</em>, I should be brave like my mother, but...I don’t <em>want</em> to fight.”</p><p>Voronwë knew what Círdan had come to ask, now. He knew what Ilverin wanted. And he knew that his little cottage by the sea, tucked away and hidden and, somehow, <em>safe</em>, was a haven where a young ellon could grow.</p><p>“Yes,” he said before either of them asked. “Yes, of course. I’ll take Ilverin in—I’ll care for him as if he were my own son. I’ve done it before, when Eärendil...” A tear slipped from his eye. Eärendil was a warrior now, sailing with the Silmaril on his brow, fighting back darkness. Voronwë was <em>so proud</em> of him—and so scared for him, too.</p><p>But Ilverin, his little heart...he could keep Ilverin safe. For Círdan’s sake. For Lalwen’s.</p><p>“Thank you, Bronweg,” Círdan choked out. “Ilfrin...needs to be a child for just a bit longer. I am so, so grateful you can give him that.”</p><p>“I’m not...” But Ilverin trailed off, sighing into his father’s embrace. “Well. Alright. Thanks, Voronwë.”</p><p>“Of course,” Voronwë repeated. “Anything for you, my little heart.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>...and then Voronwë and Littleheart became very close, and when the War of Wrath ended and Círdan stayed behind they decided to sail to Tol Eressëa together, and since Voronwë acted very paternal around Littleheart (giving him that nickname and all) people just assumed they were father and son and they didn't really mind the confusion.</p><p>Really, this theory started out as a way for me to A) reconcile my aro!Voronwë headcanon with the fact that he has a son (though I kind of hint at Idril/Tuor/Voronwë here; read it however you'd like), and B) find a way to give Círdan and Lalwen a kid in verses where they aren't Gil-galad's parents.<br/>(This fic is compliant to my <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/series/1484228">Fëanorian Redemption verse</a>, where Gil-galad is the child of Aegnor and Andreth. Also in that verse: Ilfrin becomes a therapist and helps elves who sailed deal with their trauma before they go to the mainland. And occasionally re-embodied elves, like Caranthir, who can't get everything they need out of Mandos for whatever reason.)</p><p>Ilverin is another form of Ilfrin; I decided to use it as the Quenya version of his name. Voronwë lived in Gondolin, where Quenya never went out of fashion, so he thinks primarily in Quenya even though his mother's side of the family is Sindarin.</p><p>Anyway - I'm sure I have more thoughts on this family, if you have questions feel free to ask :) I have a whole timeline for Lalwen and Círdan, I'm slowly but surely ficcing <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26861788">little pieces</a> of it...</p><p>Thanks for reading, and please comment if you enjoyed!<br/>You can find me on tumblr <a href="https://arofili.tumblr.com/">@arofili</a>.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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